MA on Atlantis? or God Help us All
by MurdocsAngel
Summary: It's finally happened. I've finally lost it, totally and completely. Warning: Do not read if you don't like purple non-object things.
1. Purple Nonobject Things

Title: MA on Atlantis? or God Help us All  
Author: MurdocsAngel  
Spoilers: Aren't those those things on race cars...? Just kidding. All of Season 1  
Pairing: Um...? Read to see?  
Rating: Not very sure...teen at the very least

Summary: Okay, so I was bored...and...everybody else gets to do a Mary Sue fic!

Warning: I have not yet written the fic as I type this, so who knows what'll pop up in there. I'm insane...that should be plenty for you people to know. Repeat after me: Do not read insanity if you don't think you can handle it...

Disclaimer: Stargate Atlantis is not a possession of mine, and this fic is in no way intended to step on anyone's toes. Mostly it's just because I'M BORED!

A/N: Did I mention I was bored? Also, this may seem similar to other stories of this particular genre, but this one is totally…um…off kilter, bonkers…not sane. So. Yeah.

Sitting around feeling sorry for oneself isn't a very interesting past time. In fact, doing so can cause a major headache, specifically right between the eyes. Do sinus' correlate to depression? In any case, I had decided to quit bemoaning the sorry state my life was in, and found myself completely and incredibly bored.

I could have turned the computer on and sat staring at the screen while I tried to see if I could write something, or if I could come up with more pretty pictures like the one I've made for this very group (shameless plugging, but hey, that's what this fic is all about), however, the point of boredom, is that you've already tried everything you've done before. It no longer takes the edge off, engages the mind, whatever you want to call it.

I wonder if this is how Sherlock Holmes felt when there were no cases of significant interest for his great mind to solve. Not that I am in any way, shape or form as brilliant as that man, but hey, I was bored.

All literary references aside, boredom can do strange things to a person. It can make you sit and stare at a wall while you twiddle your thumbs; it can let your mind be overrun with plot bunnies that will never see the light of day; it can even make you witness things that aren't really there.

At least, at the time I thought it wasn't really there. Looking back, I realize that my logical mind had simply taken a leave of absense, and I was no longer 'rational'. For those of you who don't know, despite the fact that I can be a little...out there, I am surprisingly well grounded. My head may be in the clouds, but my feet are firmly planted on the dirt, floor, whatever surface they're supposed to be walking upon.

I have always known the difference between reality and fantasy, and that is perhaps the reason I'm able to play so well in fantasy, because I know that it isn't real.

The rather large purple object in my living room looked real, felt real and even tasted real (don't ask, I obviously wasn't in my right frame of mind), and yet I know that it couldn't be real. Rather large purple objects do not just appear in the middle of your living room, floating in mid-air. They just don't.

So you can understand my obvious confusion, and dismay over the proof that I had finally taken that final turn round the bend; that I was completely and fully insane.

Now, I could have gone right back to what started my boredom in the first placefeeling sorry for myself and the state of my lifebut I was more intrigued than anything else. Nothing had really changed from the last time I went on a self-pity spree (about a year ago), and so I couldn't quite figure out what could have made me have this quite realistic hallucination. Had my need for something intellectually stimulatingor at least different from what I had been doingtriggered this?

At least it wasn't a manifestation of David Nykl/Radek Zelenka, whom I have affectionately nicknamed Squishy (SQUISHY! Ahem, sorry, that part of me always gets out somehow whenever the 's' word is mentioned...). I think I may have gone running back to my room and gone to sleep, hoping I was having a dream rather than having my curiosity peaked.

At the time though, Squishy was as far from my thoughts as anything else having to do with Stargate, despite the fact that the floating purple...thing...was so obviously the stuff science fiction is made of. Maybe even Twilight Zone. I don't really like Twilight Zone, but hey, that's not what this fic is about.

Instead, I walked around the object, debating with myself on what it could possibly be. It wasn't amorphous, yet neither did it have a defined shape. It was solid and opaque, and yet I could see through it. This contradiction of my own visual senses piqued my interest further, and I once more reached out to tentatively touch it. The texture was strange, one I'd never felt before. Seriously, I couldn't describe it if I tried. It wasn't soft, or hard, or in between…it was just…there.

My curiosity was well engaged by this point, and I put both of my hands on it, memorizing the oddness of it, which may have been stupidity on my part. But well, YOU try not touching something that feels like that, see how you make out. Anyway, the object gave a sort of pulse that I both felt and saw, and then I couldn't see or feel any more.

I woke to the sound of voices, far off at first, then nearer as my consciousness took over. I've never fainted before, so I wasn't quite certain if this was what it was supposed to feel like or not. As happened when I fell asleep after staying up too late, I was fine while laying down with my eyes closed, but when I opened them and tried to sit up, dizziness and a heavy feeling in my limbs made me lay back and close them again.

Instead of the warm blankets and pillows that I generally surrounded myself with when I went to bed, I found that I was lying on something cold and hard; it really hurts when you hit your head on something like that. With a groan, I began the process of sitting up, first turning on my side; then to my belly, bringing my knees slowly up beneath me, and then pushing up with my arms so that I was on all fours. This feat accomplished, I pushed myself up so that I was in a bipedal position, then fell back, bringing my legs out from under me and sitting with them crossed. I was very proud of myself for that, even though I wondered why I hadn't just sat straight up. Possibly, a part of my mind had intended for me to stand but…yeah, I was so not ready for that.

Through all of this, you may be wondering, 'what about those voices you heard?' Well, as I said, they were far off at first, but nearer as I woke from my impromptu nap; however, while I could still hear them, I couldn't see anyone, and assumed they were a corridor or so away from my position. Which was in the middle of an Atlantean laboratory.

If I had thought I had lost it earlier, with the whole purple non-object thing, I figured now I was probably sitting in a nice sterile clinic somewhere while people clicked their tongues over the young woman who had gone so completely 'round the bend, she couldn't function in normal society any longer.

Either that or I had been dreaming the whole thing, including the purple non-object thing, because I dream weird things like that—and while they make no sense upon waking, in my dreams they make absolutely perfect sense. It was probably my punishment for not finishing my chapter of the round robin over on weirmckayship.

While pondering this—and pondering on how I could be pondering this if I was really insane or dreaming—the voices I heard got really close, like right outside the door close. I was scared. I'm not really an outgoing sort of person, and people coming closer, just…scare me. As the door slid open, and I ducked behind some weird console thingy, I decided I couldn't be dreaming, because I never got scared when I dreamt. Scared after I woke, sometimes, yes, but never during.

"I am telling you McKay, he had twenty two!"

I instantly recognized the accented voice of my beloved Czech, and had to bite my tongue to keep from squealing. He sounded so exuberant, and I really wanted to see…but my own fear of speaking with strange people kept me right where I was, listening intently to the conversation.

"Twenty-two?" McKay's voice was just as excited as Squishy's, "I can't believe he actually fell for it. I mean, of course he fell for it, it was after all my idea, but twenty two?" There was a smacking sound, which I assumed was Rodney clapping his hands together.

"Yes, vell, you can be the one to tell Dr. Weir why Kavanaugh could not vork because of eating twenty-two power bars with Athosian version laxative," Radek stated, and I could almost picture him rolling his eyes.

"Now now, no need to be jealous, just because…who are you?"

I jumped and glanced up into Rodney McKay's blue eyes, knowing mine were wide and frightened. I hadn't even realized he was walking over here!

"Um…?" I offered, and gave a little shrug, not knowing what to say.

(to be continued…? If that is, anyone actually read past the first nonsensical rambling bit…)


	2. Pies and Purple Dresses

A/N: Well, here's chapter two…I can't believe people wanted me to continue. You do know what they say about "getting what you wished" don't you?

"Um…?" I offered, and gave a little shrug, not knowing what to say.

What could I say faced with this situation? "Oh by the way, I'm from Earth and know all about the Stargate and Atlantis, and I also have a really huge big crush on Squishy here"? Yeah, I can see that going over _real_ well.

Not that my 'um…?' and shrug was any better, since McKay's frown deepened and he turned to glance over his shoulder, at Zelenka no doubt. Then he glanced back at me and tapped the little earpiece thing that I've always assumed was their radio. "Elizabeth, we have a big problem here."

All fat jokes aside, I wondered how on earth I could be a big problem. I mean sure, I was a strange person sitting in the middle of what was probably a very important lab, and was attempting to hide from them, but still, I was harmless. I mean, I might be able to understand techno babble, but I'm no physicist, and I certainly wasn't concealing any weapons in my pajamas, which consisted of flannel bottoms and a pink tank top (basically screaming 'White Trash', with me being overweight and my hair flying every which way).

'What sort of problem?' Elizabeth Weir's voice was easily recognizable over the radio, and the concern in it was just as easily identified. That's why she was one of my favorite characters. She might pretend to be strong, to show everyone she's a leader, but when it comes right down to it, she empathizes with her people, and that counts strongly.

"We have an intruder," Rodney answered, still holding my gaze, "sitting in my lab. I found her trying to hide, and she looks absolutely terrified now, so I must have caught her doing something."

"You shouldn't come to conclusions without all the facts," I muttered, lowering my eyes to the ground. Really, I knew better than to say anything, but it really irks me when I'm being accused of something that I haven't done.

"Yes well you're the intruder, you're here in my lab, and I can make any sort of conclusions about you that I want to," Rodney began, his voice sharp with annoyance.

'I see,' Elizabeth's voice responded, thankfully interrupting Rodney before he could finish his tirade, and I briefly wondered how she could see when she wasn't there, 'I'll have a security team sent.'

I very quickly found the hem of my pajama bottoms incredibly fascinating, my fingers rolling the fabric up and releasing it in a nervous gesture. If they were bringing a security team in, then I was going to be interrogated, and I didn't think I'd be able to answer their questions to their satisfaction. Unfortunately, I didn't exactly have much choice in the matter. Here I was, and they were coming.

"She does not look so very dangerous to me."

Squishy's voice had me giving myself whiplash as my head; to my complete dismay, I found myself looking up at him. He was looking down at me with unabashed curiosity and amusement, his glasses having slid down his nose a little (This made me reach up to adjust my own glasses, but my fingers touched nothing but skin before I remembered that I had taken them off before the purple non-object thing had appeared).

"Well, how did she get here?" Rodney retorted, "Oh, I know, she just suddenly appeared out of thin air while we were away for five minutes. Radek, be reasonable."

No, I appeared because of some kind of purple non-object thing. I was getting really tired of it, and it wasn't even around any more. Purple non-object things had just made my top ten list of "things and people you should not associate with".

"I am being reasonable, you are the one who is speaking of impossibilities," Squishy replied calmly, "Perhaps if ve question her?"

"That's not our job."

"Security team is not here yet."

"Yes, but they would know how to get information out of her."

"How do you know I do not? Look at her, does she look like she vill cause harm to the lab?"

"Um, I am still here you know," I said, making them forget their argument and bringing their attention back to me. As amusing as the banter was, there were a few things that didn't quite sit right.

On the one hand, I was glad Squishy was on my side. On the other hand, I was a little offended that he didn't think I was dangerous. On the other hand, I kind of wondered why he wasn't more suspicious of me. On the other hand, neither one of them seemed very surprised to see a strange person sitting in the middle of their territory. On the other…wait, I think I've used up too many hands. Oh well.

In any case, I was now back in the center of their world because I had to open my big mouth and interrupt them.

"Of course we know you're still here," Rodney remarked, waving his hand dismissively, "What's your point?"

"Well, it's rude to talk about someone as if they aren't there, when they obviously are there," I responded.

"What are you, my mom? In case you're forgetting, YOU…"

"I know! I'm the intruder!"

I scowled and crossed my arms, glaring at the scientist. I liked Rodney, really I did, but…at that particular moment I would have happily thrown a cream pie at him. Which didn't explain why I suddenly found myself holding a cream pie in my hands. The metal of the plate it was in was cool to the touch, and was certainly real (I really am not going to go into the whole reality thing again…really).

"How did you…?" Rodney didn't get to finish his question as the pie inexplicably found its way with unerring accuracy from my hands to his face. The now empty pan slid slowly down his face where it hung a minute on his chin and then fell to the floor with a clatter.

I couldn't help the snort of laughter that came from me at the sight of the smeared whipped cream. I mean, come on, wouldn't you find it rather amusing, if not totally confusing? My eyes cut to Radek as a choked sound came from his direction, and I could see that he was finding difficult not to laugh at his friend's predicament. See? Even he found it funny.

"Oh yes, I'm sure you find this all very amusing," Rodney said, and I'm guessing he was scowling, because I couldn't see his face through the pie, "but now you have to admit I was right. There is something dangerous about her."

Squishy tilted his head and gave me a considering look, which made me look down at the floor. Okay, so despite the childish enjoyment I got out of that whole scenario, I had to admit it did make me look even worse. Still, I hadn't actually done anything. Had I?

"Oh sure, she's the "Pie Thrower of Doom"," another voice interrupted, "let's all get our 'pie repellant'."

I wasn't the only one to look as Major John Sheppard stepped in between Rodney and Radek, a sardonically amused grin pulling at his lips.

"And just how long have you been there?" Rodney asked indignantly.

"Long enough," was the vague reply, John waving his hand through the air. "So, you're our intruder."

I fidgeted and looked down at the floor again, uncomfortable under so much scrutiny. Two people I could handle, even when one of them was someone I had fantasized about quite a lot, but three people staring at me like they were waiting for me to do something (and probably they were, but lets not get into semantics here) was far too much. I much preferred being alone and doing stuff on the computer. At least there was a screen separating me from the people I talked to.

"You should probably take her to infirmary first," Squishy suggested, "see what she is."

"What I am?" I squeaked, now totally offended, "I'm human." I said the last part in a sort of whiny, little kid voice that I couldn't help.

The three of them stared at me, and I went back to finding the hem of my pajama bottoms fascinating. Well, going to the infirmary would certainly prove I was human. But what if it didn't? What if, somehow, that purple non-object thing had made me something else? Plus, I really hated going to doctors. I never had anything wrong with me, and all they ever did was say "You've got to quit smoking, and that'll help you lose weight, and make you breath easier."

I don't smoke, which makes it all the more unpleasant, because no matter how many times I try to tell them that it's my mom and my sister and my nephew who do it, they just pat me on the head and say 'uh huh, well that's good for you!'. Like they hadn't just told me to quit smoking!

As you can see, this caused my nervousness to increase to the point where I was starting to get nauseous. I bit my lip and breathed shallowly, to keep myself from puking the contents of my stomach all over the place. How embarrassing would that be?

"I was planning on it," John said, unaware of my internal struggles, after a significant pause, "it is standard procedure."

There was another long pause and then…"Zelenka, why are you wearing a purple dress?"

(to be continued!)


	3. Physical Impossibilities

A/N: Once again, I'd like to thank everyone who took the time to review this. Also, because I keep forgetting (smacks forehead), most of the plot of this was inspired by something Hans asked. The purple dress is all the fault of LT, thanks to a little discussion we had, several weeks before this fic was started.

M.A.

Chapter Three: Physical Impossibilities

"Zelenka, why are you wearing a purple dress?"

As conversations go, it was the last thing I had expected to hear, even coming from Major Sheppard. However, as we all looked at the little Czech, he sure enough was sporting a lovely strapless purple evening gown, with a slit up the sides. My mouth fell open in shock as Squishy looked down at himself, then back up at the major, a hopelessly lost look on his face.

"He wasn't wearing that before," Rodney immediately said, raising his hand and pointing directly at me as he spoke, "She had to have done this."

Once again, all attention was on me, and Radek, who had seemed to be on my side—all question of my humanity aside—was glaring, his arms folded over his chest. It was a very nice chest, with hair poking out over the top of the bodice and I had to quickly look down at the floor to hide both the flush on my face and the silly grin that wouldn't go away, no matter how much I asked it to.

"Right…" Sheppard muttered, "You," he pointed at me, "are coming with me. And the two of you as well."

"What!" Rodney exclaimed, "you cannot be serious…"

"I am not going out vearing this," Radek said at the same time.

"I have PIE on my face," Rodney continued, "Do you have any idea what kind of things…"

"…people vill say about this? Not be able to hold my head up for…"

"…days at the very least, I mean come on, Major, surely you can see that…"

There was a very loud and very piercing whistle, which caused the two men to fall silent, glaring at John as though he'd committed some major crime. The pilot just glared right back, completely immune to the affects of such deadly stares. At least they weren't directed at me, that was something. Maybe, just maybe, that purple non-object thing would come back and I would be allowed to leave in peace, with the memory of pie covered Rodney and purple-dressed Zelenka.

"Now," John said after the silence had lengthened, "that we've calmed down a little. You need to come exactly as you are, because we need to know what, if anything has been done to you."

"Is practical joke," Squishy muttered, eyeing me with distaste, "nothing more."

"If she can change your clothes, who knows what else she's capable of?" John pointed out logically.

'Thanks a lot,' I thought to myself, as I once more became the object of their stares. I then, belatedly, realized that I hadn't once moved from the spot, even though I had been ordered to. Heat suffusing my cheeks, I quickly stood up, and would have been amused by the two scientists jumping backwards at my alacrity, had I not been so embarrassed over the whole matter.

As we walked out of the lab, with Rodney and Radek both doing the best they could to keep from being seen, I wondered what was going on. Sure, it was impossible and impracticable, but there was no denying I was on Atlantis. However, the pie incident and then the purple dress made me rethink the situation I was in. I had, even if very briefly, wanted to toss a pie at McKay, and it had happened. The dress thing though, that had just been something a friend and I had discussed as a joke, and I certainly hadn't consciously been wishing to see him in a dress.

Nevertheless, I had thought about it before, and so perhaps I was doing something, perhaps my being in this universe was in itself wrong and tearing the fabric of reality at the seams…or maybe I was thinking too much again.

"At least they aren't covered in chocolate," I said aloud, to nobody in particular, and jumped when a shout came from beside me.

I had been keeping my eyes on the backs of Sheppard's shoes, not daring to look up because I felt like a cheap criminal being led to my execution. Melodramatic, but it made me feel a little better about the whole thing. Anyway, I automatically brought my gaze up to the source of the sound and then closed my eyes and groaned.

To compliment the crème pie, Dr. Rodney McKay was covered in chocolate. And he was wearing a Darkwing Duck tee shirt with matching boxers.

"As far as I can tell," Carson Beckett was saying as I sat on an infirmary bed, legs swinging back in forth in my nervous state, "there's absolutely nothin' wrong with tha two o' ya."

The identical scowls on the two scientists' faces said that they didn't like hearing that, and from the direction of their scowls, it was clear that they totally blamed Major Sheppard for the wolf whistles, snickers and stares each had received as we made our way to the Scot's domain. Which, I was glad for, because I had been scowled at way too much recently. I don't like people being angry, much less angry at me. Well, people being angry when I'm around. I love seeing the tension and angst on screen or in a book. But that's, as I've mentioned before, fictional, and I can distance myself from it.

"What about the girl?" John asked, ignoring the hateful looks being sent his way, "Anything unusual about her?"

"Aside from the fact that she should'na be here?" Carson shook his head, "She's a normal human bein' with the normal problems someone her size is like to encounter."

"Well, how did she do what she did?" Rodney asked, voice dripping with saracasm, "I suppose she's actually a witch and can conjure things like pies and purple dresses out of thin air with just a thought, hm?"

"Perhaps vhatever brought her here has done this?" Radek suggested, "and she is merely distraction?"

"But who, or what, would want to go to such elaborate lengths?" Rodney wanted to know, "I mean, what purpose has me being covered in banana crème pie served?"

"Don't forget chocolate syrup," John couldn't resist adding.

"And Darkwing Duck," Carson chimed in, grinning, "Never knew you were a fan o' cartoons, Rodney."

I kept as quiet as I could, so as not to draw attention to myself, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to hold back the laughter I could feel bubbling in my chest. Whether or not Squishy was right about something else being responsible, these things had come from _me_, from my imagination. And I very definitely doubted they would be pleased to find that out, though I suspected Sheppard already knew, from the way he kept looking at me.

He had heard me saying that stuff about the chocolate.

'Major Sheppard, please report to the gateroom.'

The voice startled everyone, including myself, and I wondered what else could have happened to cause Dr. Weir to have that anxious edge to her voice.

"On my way," Sheppard said, giving the rest of us a look. To Carson he said, "Bates and Stackhouse are outside, call them in if you need them."

Before he could move towards the door however, something very strange happened. A spacious office with a large oak paneling desk suddenly replaced the infirmary; and I found myself once more sitting on the floor.

"This is impossible," Rodney muttered, "Completely defies the laws of physics."

(tbc….)


	4. Puddles

A/N: Yet another insane chapter! Thanks again for all the lovely reviews and I apologize for making people think of Zelenka whenever the word "squishy" is mentioned :D

Chapter Four: Puddles

"This is impossible," Rodney murmured, "completely defies the laws of physics."

As I glanced around the office-that-had-been-infirmary, I said, "Everything about this whole day defies the laws of physics."

"So you are behind all of this," Rodney exclaimed triumphantly, pointing a finger at me, "I knew you were, because nothing else explains everything."

"What do you mean, 'everything'?" Sheppard asked, raising his voice to drown out McKay. "I think maybe you'd better tell us who you are, and what you know."

I looked down at my folded hands, noticing that they were clenched so tight that my knuckles were white. I forced myself to relax, and color slowly returned to them, as I thought about what to say. I couldn't tell them the _whole_ truth, because I wasn't entirely sure they'd believe that I knew all about them from a television program. In fact, it was probably best not to mention that I knew about them at all, that this was just a strange and new experience for me.

So deciding, I looked up and was surprised to see the four men wearing three-piece business suits, and that Squishy had somehow acquired a thick heavy beard. I had had a dream about something similar to this, except Sheppard, McKay and Beckett hadn't been present. Nor had the little white gerbil that began racing in a wheel on the oak desk.

I blinked rapidly and gazed back at the expectant men, then slowly began talking. "My name is Mary," no use telling them M.A., because then they'd want to know what the initials stood for, and it would just make them even more suspicious, "and I'm just your average college student. I was sitting at home, when this…this purple thing appeared in my living room, and then I appeared here."

"Purple thing?"

I gave a sigh, realizing I wasn't going to get away with my sparse little introduction, quickly went into more detail, starting with my boredom (though leaving out the whole not being able to write or making Atlantis icons), and the appearance and strangeness of the purple non-object thing.

"That makes no sense whatsoever," Rodney countered when I had finished, "A thing that's not a thing, but it is? Sounds like something out of a child's nightmare."

"I'm just telling you what I saw and experienced," I said, my voice getting that defensive quality it got when everything I said and did was questioned, "and if you know everything, why don't you tell me how I got here and why all this is happening?"

"Perhaps you have sent yourself, without realizing it," Squishy suggested, "Blocking from your mind."

"Or maybe you aren't telling us the whole story," John stated, and from his tone, I knew he wasn't making a suggestion. He _knew_ I wasn't telling them the whole story.

I sighed again. "Fine, but you still aren't going to believe me. Where I come from, I don't know if it's another reality, dimension, whatever, we have this television program called Stargate: Atlantis," I began, and then continued on, telling them everything, from writing "Of Chocolate and Edible Boxers" (leaving out the fact that it was pairing McKay and Weir) to not being able to write anything, and then finally the dreams, storylines and conversations I'd had with various people.

"I still don't know what the gerbil's doing though," I assured them, "Because I've never thought about a gerbil before."

"So you _are_ responsible," this time, Rodney's voice wasn't so much triumphant, as vindicated, "just as I've stated all along."

"Hold on a moment, Rodney," Carson interrupted, "we don' know that she's actually doin' this. According to these tests, she's a normal human being."

"Okay, why would some advanced race want to use some silly girl's imagination to screw with the way Atlantis is being run?" Rodney was shaking his head as he spoke, "Carson, that doesn't make any sense whatsoever."

The door to the office opened, and a person I'd never seen before walked in wearing a rain slicker and carrying an umbrella, looking totally confused.

"Sir, it's raining in the gateroom," the woman said, glancing at me with unguarded suspicion, "but the gateroom's not the gateroom any more."

"Ever had a dream about that?" Sheppard asked, and as I shook my head no, turned to the soldier (who was now wearing a nice blouse and ankle length business skirt), "Okay, Lester, I want you to stay in here and guard the door, and no matter what happens, don't leave your post until you're otherwise ordered to."

"Where are you going?"

"We, McKay, are going to see what ever else is happening in the city," Sheppard responded, "Beckett, Zelenka, you two stay here and see if you can get her to think of some other things. I want to know exactly how much control she actually has on this. If she actually has any at all."

"I _told_ you…" Whatever McKay was going to say was cut off as the two of them disappeared through the door.

I was left with three pairs of eyes on me, one of which showed confusion. "So, I think of lots of things," I began in a nervous ramble, "but obviously not every one of my thoughts is being used for whatever's going on here so obviously I don't actually have anything really to do with all this. Maybe the purple non-object thing will come back, and everything will go back to normal."

"Uh huh, yeah," Squishy murmured. I hadn't actually told them about that, though I had mentioned the dream with Pikachu where I had first called him that. "What other sorts of shows do you watch?"

"Well, I don't actually have a favorite genre. I don't really like all the science fiction shows that are out there, some are too much horror. I can't stand horror. I do like musicals though, and you know, it's kinda funny because I had this sudden image of Gene Kelly from Singing in the Rain when…uh oh…"

As I spoke, the office-that-had-been-infirmary changed and became a street, but not just any street. A street from the set of a movie, not realistic looking at all, but still real enough for the purposes of filming. And Lester was once more dressed in a rain slicker, only it was the old fashioned kind, bright and yellow, with a matching yellow umbrella. Carson and Zelenka were dressed identically.

But that wasn't the worst part of it, oh no. That would have been fine, just another clothing change. However, in addition to the change in clothing, the three of them began singing.

Horribly I might add.

I winced, covering my ears and tried desperately to think of something else, but apparently the illusion wasn't going to change until the song had finished. At least the music and sound of the rain sort of drowned out their voices. So much so that I didn't realize they had finished until I looked up to see Radek doing a rather impressive impression of the dance Gene Kelly had done in that same movie.

Impressive until he slipped and fell, sliding into the lamp pole that abruptly turned into a cart with medical instruments on it. The infirmary had returned to normal, and so had Carson, Radek and Lester.

"Oops?" I offered when all three of them glared at me.

Tbc…


End file.
